


Joyride

by Faillen



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Almost Garrison Sweethearts, Angst, Fluff, Hoverbike, M/M, Post-Kerberos Mission, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Pre-Relationship, Shiro gave Keith the hoverbike, Shiro's Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 16:57:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9558455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faillen/pseuds/Faillen
Summary: Shiro's eyes swirl with words he doesn't say.Not now. After. When I come back. We’ll figure it out. Promise.A few tears slide down Keith’s cheeks without his consent, and he wipes at them furiously with one hand.Shiro smiles softly back at him, “You’ll have to take me on a joyride later, since we can’t now.”Keith huffs and smiles back, “You come back on time and in one piece and I’ll take you out on the joyride of your dreams, Shiro.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, this fandom hit me over the head and then dragged me into Sheith-hell ridiculously fast. Absolutely zero regrets though XD
> 
> Anyway, here, have some sap, and angst, and not-really-Garrison-Sweethearts but totally-Garrison-Piners Sheith and my headcanon that Shiro totally gave Keith that fucking hoverbike, bc how else would a cadet scrape together enough money to buy that thing.

The night before Kerberos finds him and Shiro sitting atop the roof of the Galaxy Garrison past curfew.

It’s not that dangerous, it’s rare that guards come up to inspect the roof, but getting caught would definitely be bad. After all, officers aren’t meant to encourage curfew-breaking in cadets.

But then again, him and Shiro have been carefully toeing some kind of line between them since Shiro had graduated two summers ago—even if Keith isn’t sure where that line has been drawn and what would cross it.

“It’s not that long, I’m sure it’ll be like the other missions.” Shiro says, breaking the silence that has grown between them. His head is tilted up towards the stars, and moonlight cuts across his face.

Keith looks at him disbelievingly. The past missions were  _ nothing _ compared to this. Usually a few weeks, at most a month or two, they were nowhere as long as the eight months slotted for Kerberos.

“You’re telling me that eight months isn’t that long.” Keith deadpans. His chest feels heavy, heavier than it usually did before Shiro left on a mission. 

It was expected that the other boy would get a lot of offers after he graduated—he  _ was  _ considered a legend of a pilot. The Garrison had literally been waiting with bated breath for Shiro to turn eighteen and go from a Senior Flight Cadet to a Commissioned Officer.

But despite that inevitability, Keith had never quite gotten used to the feeling he’d get every time Shiro left. There was a sense of unease that overcame him before every launch—uncomfortable with the idea of practicing in the gym alone, not seeing anyone to smile at in the halls, not having anyone to talk through homework or go into the flight simulator with. Shiro had become a fixed point, despite Keith’s general reluctance to let anything take up space in his life, other than himself and a few prized belongings.

Shiro huffs out a small laugh at Keith’s unimpressed tone, “Okay, maybe it is long, but it’s not anything different than usual.”

“Wow,” Keith rolls his eyes, “You’re trying _ so  _ hard to downplay this entire thing that it’s almost like you’re not trying.”

“Well it’s not,” Shiro protests, turning towards Keith with a put-upon look, “We go to Kerberos, we take some samples, we come back home. Routine.”

Keith scoffs, “ _ Sure _ . You forgot to mention that it's farthest any humans have tried to travel.”

“And the longest humans have ever been in space outside of orbit.” Shiro breathes softly. His eyes are filled with anticipation, as they usually are before launches, but there’s also a weight that normally isn’t there.

“I thought you said it wasn’t that long a few minutes ago?” Keith retorts, turning his face away from Shiro. The inscrutable expression in the other boy’s eyes makes Keith dangerously wonder exactly how Shiro’s eyes would widen if Keith asked him to stay here with him. 

But Keith won’t ask that of him. This mission is every pilot’s dream—it’s  _ Shiro’s  _ dream. Even asking Shiro to consider giving it up for him, just so that Keith wouldn’t have to feel unmoored for a few months, would be selfish as hell. 

When Shiro had told him about the mission, Keith had had to keep himself from getting irrationally upset—because this isn’t about what Keith wants. It’s about everything they work for as pilots—ready to give themselves to the universe the minute it calls because this is what they  _ love— _ what all the blood and sweat and tears are for.

It’s about Shiro, living his dreams up in the stars, flying through a universe so vast that the world barely even understood where it ended.

Shiro doesn’t reply to Keith’s sarcasm, electing to simply hum in acknowledgement. When Keith looks over, he finds Shiro looking over at him, a small furrow between his brows.

“What?” Keith asks, his voice coming out a bit harsher than he intends. He winces slightly with self-recrimination, but Shiro doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, he gets to his feet, stretching a bit, before reaching a hand towards Keith.

“I want to show you something,” Shiro says, his voice uncharacteristically serious. He looks older, standing there with the moon behind him, and Keith hesitates for a moment before taking his hand and pulling himself up.

“Lead the way.” Keith dusts off his pants, and Shiro begins to walk, glancing behind him to make sure that Keith is following him.

Shiro leads them to the far side of the roof, where Keith rarely goes, and kneels down to grab something obscured by the shadows. With a tug and a clang, a ladder unfolds itself to the ground.

Keith stares, “You never showed me this.”

“You never asked.” Shiro replies with a small smirk, and begins to make his way down the ladder, jumping the last few rungs to land on the ground. He looks up at where Keith is standing on the roof. “Are you planning on coming anytime soon?” 

Keith huffs and begins to make his way down the ladder until he’s standing next to Shiro.

“This way,” Shiro leads Keith around the corner of the building and into one of the many small abandoned garages that were built around the Garrison during its early years—before it expanded and got a new hangar and industrial garage.

Easily weaving his way through the junk that has piled up in the garage, Shiro flicks on a switch and turns on a dim bulb, while Keith picks his way through the mess. There’s a cleared space in the middle of the garage, and in the center of it, an object covered by a tarp.

He follows Shiro towards it, curious, and Shiro glances over at him for a moment, his gaze unwavering before he looks back over to the lump and pulls the tarp off.

Keith feels his eyes widen as he takes in the red hoverbike. It’s a thing of beauty, the red paint glossy with a 01 painted on the side.

It’s the exact model that Keith had once offhandedly mentioned to Shiro about buying after graduating and becoming an officer. 

He stares at it for a few seconds, uncomprehending, before Shiro breaks the silence.

“I bought it a few weeks ago. You won’t be able to really take it out freely, since cadet’s aren’t supposed to have hoverbikes, but I’m sure you’ll find time to sneak out for a ride once in awhile.” Keith’s head snaps around to face Shiro, and Shiro meets his eyes, expression soft and steady.

“What?” The word comes out shaky, and Keith’s throat feels tight. Shiro takes his hand, palm-up, and presses something into it. The hard edges of the keys to the bike dig into Keith’s palm even through his gloves, but Keith’s gaze remains fastened on Shiro.

Shiro shifts his hand to drop Keith’s, but Keith doesn’t let him—wrapping his fingers around Shiro’s hand and clutching it instead.

He meets Shiro’s eyes, unswerving, and something in Shiro’s expression shifts.

“It’s mine?” Keith asks, his voice still tight and unsteady.

“It’s yours” Shiro replies. Keith steps towards him carefully.

Keith may have not known exactly where the line he and Shiro had been edging was, but he knew for certain that Shiro had just destroyed it.

Oh, had Shiro destroyed it.

Shiro carefully lifts their clasped hands up to his lips. His eyes flutter, eyelashes a dark sweep over Shiro’s cheeks as he brushes his lips over Keith’s knuckles right where the finger-less gloves end. 

Keith lets out a breath, and Shiro pulls their hands away from his lips and meets his gaze.

Shiro's eyes swirl with words he doesn't say.  _ Not now. After. When I come back. We’ll figure it out. Promise. _

A few tears slide down Keith’s cheeks without his consent, and he wipes at them furiously with one hand. 

Shiro smiles softly back at him, “You’ll have to take me on a joyride later, since we can’t now.”

Keith huffs and smiles back, “You come back on time and in one piece and I’ll take you out on the joyride of your  _ dreams,  _ Shiro.”

* * *

Five months later, the Kerberos mission is reported missing due to pilot error, Keith punches another cadet, gets expelled, and finds himself tearing out into the desert on the back of the hoverbike Shiro got him until he finds a small dilapidated shack in the middle of nowhere.

* * *

A year after that, with three other (now ex-) Garrison cadets, and Shiro (Shiro is  _ alive _ ), in tow, Keith zooms across the desert, explosions following them, and can’t help but hysterically think that this was probably not what Shiro had meant when he’d asked for a joyride.

The bigger cadet (Hank?) helps him lay Shiro on his bed, and Keith gets the rest of them settled on the living room floor before collapsing into a chair by Shiro’s side. He tangles his fingers with Shiro’s hand, trying to moor himself as he watches the rise and fall of Shiro’s chest.

It feels impossible, but Shiro is  _ alive.  _ Perhaps a bit banged up and worse for wear, but—

Keith has gotten someone he thought he’d lost forever back, and that’s all that matters.

He doesn’t actually fall asleep, only dozing in fits because everything seems so  _ surreal _ , so he wakes up quickly when he feels the grip on his hand tighten.

Straightening up instantly, Keith winces at the crick in his neck, but quickly turns his attention to Shiro, who is looking up at him with a small smile.

“Keith.” Shiro whispers, and Keith can’t stop the tears from rolling down his face. He brings their clasped hands up to his mouth, just as Shiro had, that one night that now seemed ages away, and brushes his lips across Shiro’s knuckles—once, and then twice.

“Hey there,” Keith breathes back, and Shiro’s eyes brighten impossibly before he settles back into the pillow, his eyes slipping shut while the smile still plays on his lips.

“You owe me a joyride on the hoverbike.” He murmurs after a quite moment.

Keith stares at him for a second before collapsing into giggles, because Shiro is late, and not exactly in one piece, and  _ I already gave you a damn joyride while you were unconscious,  _ but Keith doesn’t really care, not really, because Shiro is  _ here.  _

**Author's Note:**

> Can I just say, finding a picture of Keith's hoverbike was a total pain in the ass, good lord.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed :) 
> 
> I don't post a lot on my tumblr, but I try to check my messages, so feel free to hit me up :)


End file.
